


cowboy casanova

by rrosebudd



Category: Cyberpunk & Cyberpunk 2020 (Roleplaying Games), Cyberpunk 2077 (Video Game)
Genre: Blackmail, Bounty Hunter, Dom/sub, Dubious Consent, F/M, Gunplay, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Penis In Vagina Sex, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Coercion, a western man fucks a scottish girl what a shitshow, cowboy, fucking a solo out to kill her isn't too different, mal has sex with plugs for drugs all the time so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-02
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-10 20:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,678
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28492986
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rrosebudd/pseuds/rrosebudd
Summary: Malware lives a happy junkie life netrunning in Night City, content with the fact that she got her start scamming clients out of money. Unfortunately, one night, her past catches up to her in the form of a bounty hunter named Gabriel. He offers to drop the deal in exchange for her body.
Relationships: Original Female Character/Original Male Character, Solo/Netrunner
Kudos: 10





	cowboy casanova

“No, to the left, you dumbfuck. The other—! Christ.” 

Her voice was exasperated and barely intelligible with that accent of hers. Malware shouted into the microphone of her headset, right hand clicking furiously on her mouse while the left did the same to the keys. 

The bright colors of the first-person shooter on her double monitor setup flashed in her eyes and lit up the dark room of the dingy apartment that looked more like an abandoned technology warehouse than a living space. 

She was hunched over, focused, as she landed a shot, toppling an enemy and effectively stealing a kill from a teammate. 

One of the voices in the group chat groaned. “That was mine, you ass.” 

“Be faster, then,” she snarked back. “If you keep slacking, I’ll dox you and send your IP to the nearest Corp.” 

“Jesus, okay.” 

“Cap. Cap!” Another voice shouted. 

Malware took a breath, concentrated. “We got it, c’mon.” 

Another bright flash of colors, and the video game characters slowed to a stop as victory was announced for the team, and every person at their computer let out either a sigh or a fist pump. 

“There we go,” one of the boys mumbled in relief. 

She chuckled, leaning back in her chair. “Hell yeah.” She reached up with one hand to adjust the strap of her sports bra, stretching with the other arm. “You’re lucky we aren’t playing versus. I would have kicked your ass.” 

“Yeah, whatever.” A snort came through the headset. “Don’t you have work to do?”

“Mhm, this was my last game,” Mal confirmed with a huff. “Sorry, boys.”

“Boo.”

“Talk tomorrow?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged, and hit the button to disconnect without much more than that. Mal leaned forward again, running a hand down her face as the newfound silence in her headphones made her ears ring, and she plucked them off her head before standing from her chair. 

She picked up the glass from her desk, a dark liquid inside that she probably couldn’t identify all the contents of, as she brought herself to her feet with a yawn. Her exposed midriff and belly button ring were both just a little cold from the open air as she turned to head to the kitchen. Mal brought the drink to her lips to take a sip.

“I was goin’ to speak up earlier—”

She choked. The alcohol stopped dead in her throat as she gasped on it and nearly aspirated the whole damn thing, before she whipped her head around toward the voice that had shattered her silence.

A man was in the doorway. “But I didn’t wanna interrupt the fun.” 

Mal coughed, doubling over with a sputter as the drink dropped from her bottom and onto the already dirty floor. “Fucking—” she heaved, straightening herself with another cough into her fist, “Christ, doorbells exist!” 

Her voice was strained and raspy, and her eyes watered, the shock only slightly wearing off as she took in the sight of the intruder. 

He leaned lazily against her threshold, the front door open behind him, and while the initial surprise came from him being in the room at all, the second wave came from his appearance. 

He was dressed in Western clothing. An embroidered and studded shirt, a leather belt, flared bootcut pants. Goddamn cowboy boots. 

She wanted to laugh, if she wasn’t still having trouble breathing. His skin was dark and his hair clean cut. One of his large hands rested casually on the grip of a gun stashed in a leather holster. She ignored it.

“Can I ask your name, sweetheart.”

“How the hell did you get in here?” She spat back before he even finished. “It was locked.” 

“It’s a motel. Ain’t exactly a military base,” he chuckled and shook his head, and something about his cool demeanor made her disproportionately annoyed. 

He pushed himself off the door frame, and reached to shut the door behind him. “It’s Malware, right?” He pointed a gloved finger at her. 

She ground her teeth, but nodded. Not off to a great start. “Mal.” 

“Sure.” He shut the door with a click, and she flinched. The room felt smaller. 

She kept her distance, adjusting the waistband of her baggy sweatpants awkwardly, as though looking for a distraction. “Are you gonna—?”

“Gabriel Breaux,” he tilted his chin at her. “And I’m here on a job.” 

Her face went a little cold. “A solo.”

“Best there is.” His smile was lopsided and proud. He sauntered into her apartment and glanced around, taking his gun from the holster and placing it on her table. The metal clattering on the wood made her shoulders tense. 

“Nice place.” 

“Look,” Mal interrupted, putting up a shaking hand. She was nervous, sure, but the tremors came with the high. “I really haven’t done anythin’.” 

Gabriel snorted. “Aren’t you in a gang, hon.” 

“That’s barely illegal.” 

He shook his head, same amused and smarmy smile on his insufferable face. She went to back up some more, but hit the kitchen island with her behind, so she stopped. 

“Technically,” he agreed, “so is scamming netrunning clients out of their money.” 

She took a deep breath, and couldn’t help but laugh. “Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding.” Mal ran a hand through her short greasy hair. 

That tracked, actually. She had kind of a knack for leading clients on and then disappearing with their eddies when she first started in Night City. But she was hopeful enough to think that shit wouldn’t catch up to her, especially now that she had her footing.

“That was… years ago,” she laughed, but it sounded forced. 

The cowboy-dressed man shrugged with an infuriating nonchalance. “Sure. But if people didn’t hold grudges, I’d be out of work.” 

“Guess that’s true,” she huffed a strand of hair out of her face, and crossed her arms over her small chest. 

She tried to ignore the gun on the table, as Mr. Breaux stepped around, swinging one of the chairs out before flopping down onto it. He got comfortable, legs spread and big hands on his knees. 

Mal watched him, eyes narrowed. “How much.” 

“For you?”

“Mhm.” 

He pursed his lips and tilted his head, thinking. “Five hundred. Six fifty, if I bring back a body part.” 

Mal rolled her dilated eyes. “Shame,” she pouted. “I should think I’m worth way more.” 

“Sweetheart, if the payout was any higher, there’d already be one less bullet in my gun and plenty less gray matter in that pretty little head of yours.” 

He spoke so simply that it chilled her bones. Her shoulders fell, her mocking expression all but melted, and she cleared her throat, knowing her flippancy would only get her killed faster. 

“I‘ll pay double.” 

“You’re a bad liar, hon.” He countered her almost as fast as she made the offer. “You and I both know that’s not possible when you live in a shithole like this. And I don’t think you’re tryna be in debt the rest of your life.” 

She felt her hands twitch a little more, as a way out became less and less viable. She was way too fucked up for this right now. “What do you want, then, b-because I—”

He put a hand up, the glove dirty, as he stopped her. “Relax.” 

“Kind of a big ask,  _ Gabe _ .”

“I’ve got some time to kill.” He exhaled, and upon her disbelieving and frightened glare, corrected himself. “Spare, rather. Sorry.” 

“Fuckin’ hell.” 

“ _ And, _ ” he continued pointedly. “I’m not too interested in disposing of a body like yours.” He rested his arm back on the table behind him, the gun just grazing him. “That’d just be a waste.”

Her face flared pink and hot, the substances in her system certainly not helping to regulate her temperature, and she clenched her jaw. This was preferable to the alternative, she supposed. But it always came down to this. 

“I mean, it seems fair, don’t it?” He continued, his dark eyes sweeping over her frame. “You can’t get somethin’ for nothin’.” 

She shut her eyes and rolled them back, rubbing her temple with one hand, and she attempted to form thought. “You want me to—?”

“You get on your knees for me, darlin’, and I promise to make this whole thing disappear.” The hand that wasn’t by his gun was instead on his crotch, adjusting the bulge that tightened the denim of his pants. 

“You  _ can’t _ be serious.”

“You telling me these ganger boys don’t keep you around just so they can fuck you whenever they please?” He raised a dark brow. “I find that hard to believe.” 

Mal swallowed. That wasn’t untrue. She started tying up her hair, as the undercut of her cropped cut made it easy to pull it into a loose bun before she even realized the implications. 

“You’ll drop the bounty?” She clarified. “‘Cause I got, like, a job and shit now, I really can’t have this—”

“You have my word,” Gabriel assured with a grin, eyes flicking up to her hair, and then back down to her face, as he gestured to the open space between his knees. “I’ll sit here, clean my gun, you entertain me for a bit,” he explained, voice low and sultry and expectant. “And no one knows I so much as laid eyes on you.” 

She stepped forward, and dropped to her knees, letting out a breath of exasperation, perhaps to mask the anxiety. The large bulge of the cowboy’s crotch was just in front of her nose, as his hand reached down to undo his zipper. 

“But, you—” she found herself stammering, as the large hand in front of her began to rummage through his briefs, and she looked up to meet his impatient eyes. 

It didn’t take long for Gabriel to produce in his hand his prized member — sleek, dark, and glistening at the tip, and while he cupped the bottom of his shaft with his left, the right hand slid the gun off the table and held it firmly. At that, coupled with the sheer size he held in his palm, Mal panicked. 

“I don’t—” she leaned back, eyes glued to the gigantic erection right in front of her face. “H-how would that even work, ignoring the job? Could you even make sure that nobody would—?”

“That’s enough, chatterbox. Open.” 

He tapped her cheek lightly with the revolver’s muzzle, before taking the back of her head with the same hand and pulling her forward. 

She gasped, flinching away from the cool metal with a startled wince. Gabe took the opportunity of her open mouth, and shoved his way inside. 

The tip of his cock slipped past her lips and across her tongue, and whatever sound of protest she was about to make was suddenly muffled. She found the corners of her mouth stretching around the immense girth pushing itself toward her throat — a sensation she was used to, sure, but never quite this big.

A low breath came from above her, a groan mixed in with the solo’s voice, and she could only hope it was of satisfaction. To ensure it was, Mal pushed further, shutting her eyes tight as she felt the head of his huge length graze the back of her throat, and she pulled back. 

She focused on the first couple inches, and flicked her gaze up to gauge how she was doing. Instead, she was met with a raised brow over those dark eyes, as though Gabriel were waiting for something more, lazily brushing the side of his revolver as he watched her. 

“Is that the best you can do, sweetheart?” He tilted his head with a pout. 

Her eyes were big and watery as she looked up at him, and before she could get the chance to prove herself, he made the decision for her. His legs on either side of her were suddenly on her shoulders, and then crossed behind her head. 

She went to pull away to escape the hold, but didn’t get the chance, as his legs pressed on the back of her neck, and forced her head down with a strength she didn’t expect. 

She jerked forward with a whine of surprise, as she felt the thickness in her mouth slam into her throat and down it. She heaved in a breath through her nose to keep from gagging, but her throat seized around the mass, and her eyes watered. 

“There’s a good girl,” came the deep growl from Breaux, sending shivers down Mal’s spine. His focus turned back to his gun, as he fiddled with the parts, hardly paying attention to her. “That wasn’t so hard, now, was it.”

He shoved her head down again with the strength in his legs, further this time, and she gargled helplessly as he forced himself down her throat, holding her there without concern for her safety. 

She let out a whimper, trying to form words, though her attempt only pooled saliva on her lip that began to drip down to the floor. She brought a hand up to the man’s inner thigh, slapping it as though to tap out, pulling back at the same time, but that only earned her a chuckle. 

“I wouldn’t struggle if I were you, hon,” his chiding voice sounded amused. She couldn’t see the weapon, but she could hear the clink of metal as he worked. “You wouldn’t wanna make me slip, now, would you?” 

She choked, tears spilling, and curled her hand into a fist on his thigh, her nails scratching his skin, but he didn’t so much as flinch. 

He held her there for a while, though the drugs and lust clouding her brain made time a little hard to follow, as she choked and gagged repeatedly on his girth and felt her throat begin to bruise all the while. Just when she thought she might be faint from the lack of air, she was released and allowed to breathe. 

Mal pulled back with a gasp, a string saliva connecting her glossy lips to the dark head of Gabriel’s cock, some dripping down her chin, and mascara running from her eyelashes. “H-Holy shit—” she stammered, voice raw. 

Gabe grinned, his legs back on the ground as he let her sit up straight. He leaned forward, wiping off the wet from her lower lip with the pad of his gloved thumb. “You look much nicer like this.” 

“Shut up,” she coughed, glaring up at him. 

He imitated her with a pout, and patted her cheek with his hand. “Chin up, buttercup.”

She huffed, tilting away from his palm. “Are we done here?”

“Have I cum yet?” He rolled his eyes. “Stupid questions. Get up.” 

He offered her a hand, luckily, which she took as she pulled herself onto shaking legs, the space between her thighs already wet. He stood as well, and moved his hand down to her waist, gripping her hip and pulling her close. 

She saw his eyes look her over, examining her small frame, before planting a firm and wet kiss on her lips, his other hand dropping his gun on the table and sliding it up her torso to pinch at a hardening nipple through the fabric of her sports bra. 

She squeaked into his mouth, the sound fizzling out into a whine as he tugged on her breast, biting her bottom lip with his teeth, before he pulled away, a hand still resting on her waist. 

Mal caught her breath, looking up at him with the same wet eyes, catching his glance for only a moment before he grabbed her sides with both strong hands and lifted her off the ground. He spun her and hoisted her up onto the table, before resting her ass on the wood to sit her up. 

The two were at equal heights now with her up on the tabletop, her legs dangling off and her chest heaving slightly. 

“Strip,” Gabriel commanded simply, giving her no room to disobey. 

She wanted to snark, say something annoying and Southern to mock him, but he was the one with the gun and the muscles she could still make out even with his decorative shirt. So she kept it to herself. 

“Yes,  _ sir _ ,” she retorted, and crossing her arms at the bottom elastic of her sports bra before wriggling free from the restrictive fabric and tossing it to the side. Her tiny breasts bounced to a stop as she put her hands down to start on her lower garments. 

At the same time, Gabe assisted in tearing off her baggy sweatpants, lifting her butt with ease to slip them off of her, along with her panties, and throwing both to the floor, leaving her completely exposed and at his mercy. 

He took a moment to look over her, letting a hand run up her front to cup one of her small tits and tug at it, before spreading his hand on her chest and shoving her back. With a gasp, she hit the table and instinctively arched her back, her bottom half hanging from the table. 

She was staring at the ceiling and wasn’t able to properly ready herself, for the next thing she knew, the man was burying his gigantic cock inside her without so much as a heads up. Mal took in a startled gasp, but it didn’t hurt as much as she thought it might, likely because of the soaking wetness pooling in her pussy that had gone unnoticed until just now. 

“Oh,  _ wow _ ,” Gabriel’s raspy voice marveled, and her face flared. He pushed himself further inside with a grunt through his teeth, and she whined. “You’re all ready for me, ain’t ya?” 

“A little warning might’a been nice,” she snapped, adjusting herself with a broken breath as her entrance stretched around the girth he was shoving inside her. 

“Seems to me you didn’t need one,” he corrected, and leaned forward, pressing himself down to her to kiss her neck. 

She rolled her eyes, all for an act he couldn’t even see as he began to teeth at the skin by her throat, as she tried to hide the moans that wanted so desperately to escape her. 

He leaned his hips back, retreating slightly, before pushing into her again, her walls making room a little more with every inch he sheathed himself. 

Gabriel began to pick up a steady rhythm, straightening himself after having reddened the skin on Mal’s neck with his aggressive kisses, and he drug his hand up from her breasts to rest on her neck. He kept her steady by tightening his grip on her throat, and the sound that escaped her mouth as he gradually choked her was embarrassing and akin to a whimper. 

He chuckled, a low and intimidating sound, and while he curled his large fingers around the tendons in her neck, his other hand delivered a sharp slap to her inner thigh to accompany his quickening pace. 

She yelped, breathing ragged, and felt herself tighten around him as the sting coursed through her leg. “F-fucking hell—” she gasped for breath, her tits bouncing with every thrust as she was pounded into repeatedly. 

He smacked her again, almost directly on top of her clit, and she cried out through a bit lip, lifting her pelvis up to meet his as his balls slapped against her ass. 

“Fuck.  _ Fuck _ ,” Gabriel snarled, his teeth grit and his thrusts becoming less steady. The hand on her throat tightened further and she gasped out, feeling him bury himself fully inside her one last time before pulling himself out and replacing her cunt with his hand instead. 

Only two strokes to guide himself, and he was shooting spend on top of her. Hot ropes of cum spurted from his shimmering member and onto her thighs, stomach, tits, and perfectly good dining room table. 

She felt several droplets hit her face and her mouth, while the rest favored her breasts, before Gabriel rested his cock on her stomach to let the last few strands drip out. 

He groaned deep, retracting his hand from her throat to instead swipe a bead of white from Mal’s lip with the pad of his thumb. 

She was panting, red faced, as she propped herself up on trembling elbows to eye the man who’d just used her. 

“You should model like this,” he commented, out of breath, but better at hiding it. “You’re a lot less obnoxious when you’re covered in cum.”

“Fuck off,” she snorted, shaking her head. The high of the sex was fizzling, but her face was still hot, as she lowered her head down to the table. 

Her ears pricked up at the sound of a belt being fastened once more, and the gun being picked up from the table. 

“Let’s hope we don’t meet like this again, huh, sweetheart?” Gabriel spoke low with an amused chuckle, zipping up his pants. Mal turned her head to see him properly. 

“That’d be ideal,” she agreed, catching her breath in heaving inhales. 

“But if you do, however, want to meet again,” he continued, catching her off guard. He flicked something in her direction, and she flinched, but instead a piece of paper landed by her head. “Perhaps in better circumstances, here’s my card.” 

She pushed herself to sit up, blinking, as she picked up the small thick paper slip with her manicured but shaking hands. Sure enough, engraved with his name and number. 

“Oh,” was all she could manage. The cum that coated her began to drip down now that she was sat up. Mal glanced to the man, as he holstered his gun and headed for the door. 

“You’ll call off the dogs?” She called after him. 

“I’m a man of my word, miss,” he responded without looking behind him. “Keep yourself out of trouble.” 

And with that, he swung open the door and stepped out, shutting it behind him and taking his leave. 

She put down the business card and ran a hand down her face. Now she had to clean all this shit up. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> characters are original and belong to me and my partner! love me some cyberpunk dubcon lmaoo


End file.
